


Undone

by halotolerant



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (Season 6B)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Memories, One Night Stands, Queer Themes, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 14:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant/pseuds/halotolerant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie McCrimmon has changed. He just doesn't know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

> This is between Jamie being returned to the battlefield, minus memories, in 'The War Games' and the point (which I choose to believe eventually happens) when he's reunited with the Doctor and Season 6B takes place.

Young men of the Highlands do not travel south to the cities. And they do not drink in the dirty taverns found there where no one is known to anyone. And they do not give names that are not their own.

They do not visit houses of ill repute. They should not even know of such places. If they want to reave and riot in the old ways, well, so they may. But they do not hunger for anything else. 

They do not let their eyes pass over the girls and blousy women presented to them at the houses, and instead catch the gaze of other men sat drinking, waiting. 

They do not want these other men to be older, wiser than they, faces lined with experience and maybe – _it is somewhere, seek it, yearn for it_ – twinkling, gentle kindness. 

They do not ascend stairs of sordid houses with these men, skin hot, pulse racing, (brothel owners smirking, saying nothing, taking an extra coin and ensuring privacy).

They do not allow themselves to be borne down onto a straw mattress and touched and taken. Not by a man, not by anyone, this is wrong beyond imagining. They do not pant and claw and scrabble, gasping - half-present, half-remembrance – stroking, kissing, rising, calling out, arching, peaking, glimpsing glory in those seconds with all the tragic transience of sunset on an alien moon.

[They do not have strange thoughts like that]

They do not weep, silently, in the early hours, whilst gazing from a window at a distant scattering of stars, having found themselves, despite all that has just passed, still beset by formless yearnings, still somehow waiting. 

They do none of these things. 

But, since Culloden, Jamie McCrimmon has.

 And he does not know why. 

Or what he is seeking. Or Who. 


End file.
